


The Dog from Vault 142

by Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Humor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bonding, Dogs, Drugs, Getting to Know Each Other, Mad Science, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Post-Game(s), Talking Animals, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-01 06:11:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts/pseuds/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts
Summary: Some Vaults made clones, some held elections of death, others let loose disease after disease to work on cures that may not even work. There was even talk of a Vault that held only one person and a hoard of puppets.Vault 142 turned people into animals.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Starting yet another WIP because if I don't write something I'm going to go insane.

Vault-Tec was not the savior people thought them to be. Vaults had been advertised as havens from the inevitable, but underground may have been just as bad or worse. Vault-Tec was just science given no ethical limits.

Some Vaults made clones, some held elections of death, others let loose disease after disease to work on cures that may not even work. There was even talk of a Vault that held only one person and a hoard of puppets.

Vault 142 turned people into animals.

Vault-Tec had good intentions with 142 at least. They knew animals adapted to survive while humans prefered to change their habitats instead of themselves. With this in mind, they set to work trying to transfer human consciousness into animal bodies. 

The procedure was horribly invasive; The majority of subjects died during the operation. Those that didn’t only failed to adapt to their new bodies and died shortly after. The few who made it through were given time to rest, heal, and learn to at least survive if they couldn’t live comfortably. After a few months it was back to the medical chambers where they would be exposed to low-level radiation. 

As expected, animal bodies did better with the radiation than the human control group. What humans were left set to building devices that would work for quadrupeds. 

Eventually it became clear that the animal-bonded people that weren’t sterilized by the radiation tests could produce children that thought and spoke like humans. They even lived just as long. Since that fact solved the issue of keeping up the population, the remaining humans became bonded or died trying.

 

David Decker was a fourth-generation inhabitant of Vault 142. He had been born a Dog; A crossbreed of berger picard and german shepherd. He was skinny, had scruffy, wiry brown fur which was darker in a thick line from his nose, over his ears, down his back, and all but the tip of his tail. 

David was intelligent. He liked to read and play chess with the Cat that lived a few doors away. He liked music, though he wished to hear new songs instead of the same tired out ones on the radio. He liked to dance, though his father always told him he looked goofy doing it. He liked food, though it was rationed too strictly to ever indulge. More than anything, he liked the thought of exploring.

David was restless. He wanted to see the sunrise and sunset and stars that were so romanticized in his books. He wanted to feel earth under his paws instead of cold metal. He wanted room to run as far as he could just to see where he’d end up.

“I want to leave the Vault.” David said, over a bland dinner of pebbles made from mostly vitamins and a little meat.

David’s father, another Dog with even wilder fur, sputtered in surprise.

“It’s dangerous outside!” Mr. Decker exclaimed.

“I know that but I’m so sick of being cooped up…”

“I know. Well, you’re not a Pup anymore so I suppose I can’t stop you. Just… be careful.” Mr. Decker sighed. “You don’t mean right now, do you?”

“No. I know I need to plan a bit and pack up first.” David said with a shrug. 

“Oh thank God.”


	2. A Change of Scenery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodneighbor welcomes all.

David came into Goodneighbor four months after leaving the Vault with a limp in his hip and blood on his face. It was sheer luck that one of the Watchmen had gotten curious about the racket and opened the gate just enough for David to squeeze through. The raiders on his tail did not follow him through. Apparently they didn’t feel like trying their luck in what seemed to be a well-protected city.

“What the hell?” Exclaimed someone as David ran past the shops to duck into an alley, hiding himself behind a dumpster and promptly passing out.

When David woke up he was on a red couch in an unfamiliar room. There was a heavy scent of smoke, chem fumes, and dust in the room. The room was empty, but someone had been through recently; The cram in a tin on the floor was still warm.

He also noticed that his hind leg had been tended, tight scraps of fabric bandaging it. When he stood they kept him from putting any weight on the sprain, which was thoughtful. Finally, some decent people.

David carefully climbed down from the couch and made his way to the offered food. Cram wasn’t his favorite but it beat raw molerat and he hadn’t eaten in a fair few days besides. It would be rude to ignore the hospitality anyway.

Halfway through his meal, David heard the door to the room open. He looked up, seeing a woman in a heavy-looking set of armor and a scar covering just a little less than half her face. She looked harsh and strict, but judging from the fact he was being fed and given medical attention David decided she couldn’t be cruel.

“Hey, Scruffy.” The woman spoke softly. “Finally awake, huh?”

‘Scruffy’ was the name scribbled on the yellow bandana tied around his neck. Accurate, if not very imaginative. David had learned on his first day out of the Vault that talking to anything on two legs only warranted attention that he would prefer to avoid. Dogs outside the Vault apparently couldn’t speak or even reason well. 

Thankfully the woman didn’t expect a response. She just sat on the other couch opposite the one David had slept on. She watched him eat, which was a bit uncomfortable, and she continued to speak gently to him. He learned that her name was Fahrenheit, that she wasn’t going to hurt him unless he turned out to be a mad dog, and that she was rather annoyed that the mayor of the town had tasked _her_ with seeing if the dog _he_ wanted was trained well if at all. David tried not to feel too offended at that. 

Being a pet would be better than a sideshow or a fighting dog. Being considered a person would be ideal, but the Commonwealth wasn’t ideal. To those above ground and upright, he was either a dumb animal or a freak and there was no sense broadcasting the latter.

“Well you haven’t taken a snap at me yet.” Fahrenheit mused, standing and stepping closer. 

David lowered his ears, but stood his ground. 

“Not too shy, either.” The woman continued, and held out a hand toward him.

David had seen the raiders’ dogs react to this gesture by either sniffing the offered hand or snarling at it. David opted to instead ignore it and look Fahrenheit in the eye. He still said nothing, but hoped she caught the fact that he wasn’t about to put up with condescension. To further his point, he stepped around her and limped out of the now open door.

Fahrenheit watched him go, humming thoughtfully to herself. “Good luck with the stairs.” She called dryly after him.

It was lucky that the doors of the Old State House had lever-style handles instead of knobs. Knobs were impossible for paws or teeth but a lever was manageable. He heard heavy footsteps behind him, and was mildly irritated when he realized that Fahrenheit was following him. She hadn’t threatened him so far at least, so he opted to ignore her for now as he explored the town.

There were a lot of ghouls, David noticed. He had nothing against them. He just had never seen so many in one place before. There was also an assaultron running the gun shop. The more he saw, the more he wondered if the town was just another, bigger freakshow. Nobody bothered him though, so he supposed it would be safe enough to stay.

 

David met Hancock after a few hours of exploration. He’d gotten tired, an effect of his injured hip, and Fahrenheit had carried him back to the Old State House. Hancock was waiting for them both upstairs.

“Nice to see the pooch awake.” A short twig of a man said. He was a ghoul, dressed in clothes that looked to be just as old, if not older than the building they were in. 

“He’s a weird one, Hancock. Took a walkabout and didn’t piss on anything.”

“He must know it’s _my_ town.”

_No, it’s just awkward to pee with someone else present. _David thought to himself, and wriggled to let Fahrenheit know he wanted down.__

__She set him down on the floor, careful not to jar his hip. From there David let himself onto one of the couches. Hancock sat on the other end of the same couch and offered his hand for sniffing. Just like with Fahrenheit, David kept his nose to himself but this time without the glare._ _

__“Hm.” Hancock took his hand back. “Well at least he didn’t bite me. You think it’s the hat? Nora told me some dogs hate hats and beards.”_ _

__“It’s not the hat and we both know a beard is off the table for you.” Fahrenheit said. “He said ‘no’ to me too. At least he didn’t give you the stinkeye. He might still be out of it.”_ _

__“Maybe those raiders he got loose from knocked something loose in his head? He killed two on the way in but he took some bad hits first.” Hancock mused aloud._ _

__David huffed and rolled over, mildly offended at the comment toward his brain. He was smart enough to know a dumb animal was better off than one with his mental capacity. Playing stupid was the best thing he could do, though. Best not to blow his cover._ _

__“Why do you think he had that many raiders after him, anyway?” Fahrenheit asked. “He wasn’t carrying anything.”_ _

__Hancock didn’t have an answer, so the conversation died there into pondering silence. Gingerly, the ghoul reached over to pat the dog’s head. David growled a soft warning and the uninvited hand quickly retreated._ _

__“Okay, Scruffy.” Hancock conceded. “We’ll get there. Maybe when you’re feeling better?”_ _

__

__Hancock was a strange man. He seemed to be unable to sit still for more than even a minute. He was also a fan of chems, and chatty when he was high which was often. He kept talking to David about everything and nothing; How his town was running, if the wall repairs were going and the fact he was worried it wasn’t going quickly enough, asking rhetorical questions. Eventually he changed subject to an anecdote about a singer downstairs breaking a bar patron’s arm for getting grabby._ _

__“I like Mags. She’s tough as nails and pretty as carrot flowers.” Hancock mused._ _

__David didn’t care for being treated like a pet, but he did enjoy being talked to like a friend. It wouldn’t last if he broke his silence, he knew, but he was starting to like listening to the ghoul ramble. It did worry him a bit that Hancock seemed to need to drug himself to be able to relax enough to sleep. Occasionally that sleep ended up being on the floor. In that case David would drag the man onto the couch the best he could._ _

__“Good dog.” Hancock would praise drowsily whenever he finally woke up._ _

__It was nice to feel appreciated._ _


	3. Chapter 2: Sound Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idek what im doing but im doing it anyway.

The best thing about Goodneighbor was the radio, David decided. It wasn’t music or news like he was used to, but an actual radio play. _The Silver Shroud!_ It was an interesting bit of fiction; Full of action and mystery. Sure, the acting was cheesy at best, but that was a good portion of the fun of. There were also some fantastical musings from the radio host, Kent Connolly. 

Hancock liked the show too, and thought it amusing that David would sit in front of the radio, ears forward in rapt attention. It became a Thing on lazy days for them both to sit together and listen. After a few weeks, David even let Hancock pet him. It wasn’t nearly as condescending as he assumed it would be. If he even found it comforting, well, it’s not like anyone had to know.

“See? I’m not so bad.” Hancock chuckled the first time David allowed a pat between his ears.

David silently agreed.

 

Eventually, David figured out why the strong and intelligent Mayor even needed a dog. He wasn’t sure at first. The raiders had tried using him as a spy, then a fighting dog to make money, then an attack dog. They’d also sold him back and forth to whoever had the highest bid for the novelty of owning a talking dog. Hancock had no motives for unnecessary violence, he had enough wealth, and he had no idea David was anything other than Scruffy the Common Mutt.

Comfort was why he kept David around. Companionship. Fahrenheit was a fine friend and the whole town loved Hancock, but none of them were quite the same as having an animal that would stay loyal and never judge you. (David definitely judged the chem use, but Hancock had no way of knowing that.) There was also the fact that having something else to take care of was a good motivator to take care of yourself. A normal dog would have been perfect.

David was a person. Sooner or later he knew he’d slip up in his act and have to leave. Even so, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that _too_ soon.

 

Hancock had to go away for a while. “On business.” He had said, but David wasn’t sure what sort of business. Usually Hancock didn’t keep a leash on his tongue when it was just David he was talking to, so the Dog assumed that whatever the business was, it had to be an umbrella term for several things.

Hancock also didn’t bother putting a leash on David, but suddenly he had a rope tied to the ugly bandana around his neck. He was annoyed by it, but there had to be a reason for the change. Hancock lead him to the Memory Den, past the loungers and into a small room toward the back. There was another ghoul there, sitting by a radio and a microphone set. 

“Hey Kent. Brought’cha a fan. His name’s Scruffy. Can you watch him for me for about a week? He’s pretty well behaved, just weird. He even walks himself so long as you keep the door cracked.” 

“Well you’re weird. Dogs tend to take after their people.” Kent teased. “Sure, I can take him for a little while.”

Even if the name was common, David knew that voice like the tip of his nose. He couldn’t help the childish wag and wiggle at hearing it in person.

“He was weird when I got him.” Hancock snorted.

David, knowing Hancock by now, knew well enough to take it as a compliment. 

 

Kent was a kind, soft-spoken sort of a man. He set up a blanket beside his broadcasting desk for David to sleep on. He kept the door cracked so David could wander. He wasn’t as talkative as Hancock, and didn’t bother with chems at all. David had almost forgotten what clear air smelled like and he was glad for the change. 

David sort of missed the jet fumes after a day, but that's what he got for getting attached. Jet wasn’t even a nice smell. It was sharp and sour and the worst kind of earthy, but David had come to associate it with the closest thing he’d had to a friend since leaving his Vault.

There were two women also living in the Memory den; Amari and Irma. They were civil, but nearly always busy with something. David stayed out of their way, but was careful to watch the processes of the memory loungers. He wondered how they worked, but wouldn’t try asking. He hoped one would need maintenance soon so he could get a look at the inner workings. It didn’t happen but a lot of the people passing through the building always seemed delighted to see him.

Snooping around at night while everyone was asleep was fun. Kent left his office open so David was free to read comic books under the desk by lamplight. It had been so long since he had been able to read anything, either because the raiders hadn't allowed leisure time or because he was so scared of breaking his cover. A real novel would be even better, he decided once he had read every comic twice. He knew he might not have time for that, though, and he wasn't about to look around in the ladies' rooms.

God, he was lonely with no one to talk to...


End file.
